


The Stark Contrast Job

by Pohadka



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Leverage
Genre: Leverage in the MCU, Multi, Puns in titles, this is all her fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20682701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pohadka/pseuds/Pohadka
Summary: Eliot Spencer has never led a normal life.  Tony Stark is anything but normal. Eliot thought he was lucky the first time his path crossed Stark's.  The second time? Not as enjoyable. At least, not for him.





	The Stark Contrast Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChibiSquirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiSquirt/gifts).

> This is all Chibisquirt's fault. She suggested that Nate had crossed paths with Tony... I suggested Eliot had too. then that line from Ultron popped into my head. "There are conventions!" 
> 
> Enjoy my insanity. Barely edited. Errors are all my fault.  
ETA: small update to fix errors that a kind friend saw.

1997

Paris was a beautiful place. Not even Moreau could ruin it by insisting that Eliot follow him to a meet of the world’s underbelly, dressed as a conference. He could play the heavy just fine, and it was nice to see beautiful people having fun around them. 

And there were beautiful people around them. Women practically dripping off the arms of men like priceless diamonds. Men following powerful women like a litter of puppies hungering for thier attention. Good wine, better cheeses, and the possibility of getting to enjoy a table at a Michelin restaurant by himself while Moreau did his business. 

The only part that really ruined it was that this was a war profiteer convention. People who made the things possible to create war, and those who used them in said wars, rubbing elbows and making deals and destroying lives. 

Sometimes Eliot was very aware of how much of a tiny fish he was in this incredibly vicious pond. And that was something to be very glad about. 

He was not glad to find Moreau going into a tiny room with Obidiah Stane. He had no doubt that they’d walk out with something nasty that he’d end up deploying. 

“Obie, wait up!” 

Eliot flexed his shoulders and turned even as Damien and Obidiah turned to look at the newcomer. A very young man, bright eyes and flashy clothes. Eliot recognizes him immediately as Tony Stark. And he knows within half a beat what Moreau’s going to ask him to do. 

“Hey Tony,” Stane says genially. “Having a good time?” 

“Oh yeah. You should see what this guy Klaue has. Really versatile.” Stark was drunk, and flying on something. Eliot could smell it from two feet away, easily, but Stark was handling it well. 

“I will, I will. I just need to talk to my friend Damien right now about a few shipment issues. Boring stuff.” Stane’s eyes flicked to Eliot, then to Damien. 

“Eliot, why don’t you go with Tony to see what Klaue is peddling. The man is a liar and a thief. It’s best to keep an eye on him,” Damien said smoothly, the last bit as an aside to Stane. 

It did exactly what it was intended to do. Stark deflated, but it took a close eye to see it. The kid was good at deflecting. 

“Sure,” Eliot said easily, relaxing his shoulders and projecting a professional aura at Stark. The kid took it like a lifeline. 

“Yeah, you look good in a fight, let’s go.” 

Eliot nodded at Damien and at Stane. Time to distract the children while the adults made the deal. He wasn’t to let Stark see either of them until it was done. 

He turned back, but the kid was already moving away. Eliot hustled a bit to catch up. 

They wound back and forth across the hotel’s conference rooms, past tantalizing shows of weapons and humanity. Once, Eliot had been the object on display. Only once. 

“Yeah, here’s good.” Stark had found a balcony, surprising out of sight and empty. The view was decent, of the Seine instead of the Eiffel Tower. To Eliot’s eye, there was no good sniper position to see them either. 

That wasn’t what Stark was thinking of though. “Thought you wanted to see Klaue,” he growled, shifting to let Tony go back inside. 

“Nope. I know Obie wanted you to distract me from your boss. I don’t care, really. I’m always up for a good distraction though. How ‘bout you?” Stark was stepping closer, right up into Eliot’s space, pushing him back a step. 

“Distraction huh? What did you really have in mind?” Eliot asked, trying to shift gears to keep up with this kid. There was a very distinctive smell of cigars, expensive whiskey, and sex radiating off the kid when he stood this close. 

“Oh, you know, the fun kind.” One hand pushed Eliot firmly against the wall, while the other slid around his waist. 

Then they were kissing. Stark was pushing still, heavy and sloppy until Eliot pushed back into it. 

Once they had a wordless agreement that this was gonna happen, Eliot relaxed into it. He knew this routine well. They’d kiss, then switch, then he’d drop to his knees and get the billionaire off. 

Only Stark flipped the script again. He was the one who sunk to his knees and unzipped Eliot’s pants. All Eliot could do was hold on and ride it out. 

Stark was experienced, Eliot knew that immediately. It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t professional, and that’s all what made it so good. He found himself coming hard very quickly, eyes on the Paris skyline and a fistful of the most expensive jacket he’d ever touch. 

Stark stood up after a minute, wiping his mouth clean while smirking at Eliot. “I like the hair. Hope your boss doesn’t give you shit if he finds out you lost me in the shuffle.” A saucy little wink and a smile accompanied the words. 

Eliot huffed, zipping up his pants. “He’ll understand. Your turn?” 

“Nah, I’m good. Eliot, right? You have a great time. I’m going to.” A couple flicks to the suit, fingers run back through the fine black hair to straighten it, then just like that, Eliot’s brush with international greatness was over. 

He took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall again. He’d remember this one for a while. 

Oh yeah, definitely one to remember. 

~

2010

There were very few jobs that Eliot tried to talk Nate out of. Sometimes he did. Sometimes he just cleaned up the mess post op the best way he knew how. At least now it was with taking people to the hospital, not dumping bodies in a convenient pit. 

This was a job that Eliot tried to push the brakes on every chance he got. Even Hardison and Parker knew something was up. They were _babying_ him while they worked through the levels of Stark Industries. 

Sophie just turned those big knowing eyes on him. He couldn’t look at the pity, so he yelled at Nate more to make up for it. 

Eliot knew his team was good. He’d go to the ends of the earth with them in a heartbeat. It’d been twenty years and a LOT of blood since he felt that way about anyone. 

It was family. Family and a sense of belonging that he was afraid would be destroyed by Obidiah Stane. 

It blew up. Just the way he predicted it would. Sand and grease and too many men with guns and his _family_ was in the middle of it, and for what? Nate’s pride?

What he didn’t expect was to walk out of that desert carrying a half dead Stark who had a glowing chest now. 

He didn’t expect to have to ride herd on both Stark and Hardison as they mumbled their way through some crazy tech language that didn’t make sense to anyone but them. 

Eliot really didn’t expect to be recognized, either. On the run, out classed and out gunned by Stane. Between of them, Eliot and Nate knew very intimately that this might be the end to a really good run. 

And here was Stark, creating yet another wrinkle in the tiny little hideout on the edge of Dubai. (Eliot had voted for Mumbai but Nate had ‘contacts’ in Dubai.)

He took a deep breath, then stared back at Stark who’d been watching him all morning. “Is there a problem here?” 

Stark pointed a screwdriver at him, an ever present smile of delight curling his lips. “I know you.” 

“No, you don’t.” Eliot glared extra hard, something that worked on everyone but his family, then ducked down to concentrate on the hardware he was putting together for Parker’s harness. His hair slid down to create a curtain between him and Stark, but it didn’t work. 

A triple fingersnap, then a finger pointed at him. “Got it! Paris! 97! I blew you at the conference with the thing, the South African, uh... Klaue!”

There was a screech of silence, then the creak of Hardison’s chair as he spun around. “You did WHAT with Stark?" 

Eliot slammed the harness on the floor, fury and embarrassment flooding through him. He didn’t like them knowing ANYTHING about those years if he could help it. What he’d done for Moreau, they’d agreed to leave alone. “We’re not talking about this." 

“Oh man, this is the answer to so many wet dreams,” Hardison said to himself, ignoring Eliot’s words but staring at him with that look in his eye. The one that Eliot had worked so hard to ignore for three years now. 

From above, Parker spun to drop down and look at them, her hair pooling onto Hardison’s keyboard. “Wait, does that mean we’re dating Stark now? I’m confused. First he’s the mark, then he’s the target. THEN he’s the client and now he’s dating us?” 

Eliot clenched his fists, glaring at Parker now. “Dammit Parker! NO ONE’S DATING ANYONE!” he hissed. He didn’t want to look at Stark. He refused to look at Stark.

(From the corner of his eye, he could see Tony lit up with absolute delight with the scene playing out in front of him.)

Sophie was putting it all together her own way, glancing back and forth and doing the math. “Wait, You mean you knew you could honey pot Stark all this time and didn’t tell me? Eliot! We’re a team here!” 

Eliot looked to Nate in hopes that he would have something to make this all go away. Three bourbons in, all Nate had for him was vicious avarice. Now he had a distraction to keep the team from knowing how he blew up their nice safe con. 

All Eliot could do was throw up his hands and walk out the door. 

\- 

When he got back, arms full of stuff from the little outdoor market he’d stumbled on, everyone left him alone. He got to shuffle into the kitchen, put things away and start on a complicated dish to sooth his nerves. 

At least, until Stark strolled into the kitchen. He was silent, at least, as he leaned against Eliot’s counter. He paused to look at the genius, really look at him. There were bags under his eyes. The normally neat goatee was straggly as stubble grew in around it. He looked like he’d lost thirty pounds in his captivity. All that plus his arm in a sling and that thing glowing in the center of his chest. Eliot had gotten an up close look at it when he had cleaned the inventor up. It was IN his chest. Eliot had a strong stomach but the thing made him wanna sort of throw up a little. 

“I’m sorry I threw a spanner in your polycule. I didn’t realize that’s how your team worked,” he finally said. 

Eliot very carefully put down the chef’s knife, in case his temper got the best of him. “We’re not poly. We’re not anything,” he growled, eyes on his hands that were not clutching the counter, thank you very much.

“I’m still sorry. You should cherish that. I don’t apologize for much.” Stark was fiddling with slices of starchy roots that Eliot had already chopped up. “I think you underestimate them.” 

Eliot turned and leaned in on his tormentor. “I know exactly what they can and cannot handle. We’re a team.” 

“So I don’t belong?” To his credit, Stark didn’t back down. “I know that. I never do. Doesn’t mean I wanna make this any messier than it already is.” 

“Fine. So what do you want?” Eliot growled. 

“To fix things. To get back where I can clean up my own mess.” His eyes were open, focused straight on Eliot. It should have made him uncomfortable, but he found himself relaxing. Eyes direct, face earnest, no fidgeting. Stark meant what he said. 

“Fine, then you’re with the best people to get you there,” Eliot muttered, turning back to the cutting board. 

“Great!” Nate said from behind them. “Let’s go steal his company back!”

Stark broke into a wide grin. He waited until Nate had called for Hardison before saying, “Seriously though, if you’re not dating the thief…” 

“Stark, you leave her alone!” Eliot found himself chasing a billionaire through the squat with the cheapest knife he had. Just to make it hurt longer.


End file.
